


Making the effort

by MToddWebster (RembrandtsWife)



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angels, Demons, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, First Time, Gender or Sex Swap, Genderfluid Character, Intersex, Latin Authors of Whom Augustus Disapproved, Multi, Post-Apocalypse, and they both switch, they're not human they're spirits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 13:43:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19319368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RembrandtsWife/pseuds/MToddWebster
Summary: Secretly he suspected the seraphim were right about the Godhead and that it was ineffable sex, not ineffable speech, which had created the cosmos.





	Making the effort

**Author's Note:**

> I'm kind of in love with Michael Sheen. And I couldn't resist the temptation (har de har) of characters who are canonically nongendered but able to present whatever gender they like. And they like all of them.
> 
> Thanks to rhysiana for beta. <3

The first time Crowley and Aziraphale Got to Know one another, it didn't, well, take very long. An embrace and a kiss and then a full-body explosion of celestial, nay, *cosmic* bliss.

Aziraphale didn't even have time to observe whether Crowley's tongue was still forked, like a snake's.

The second time, they took things more slowly. So slowly, in fact, that to a merely mortal observer, they would have appeared not to be moving. It still required no more than an embrace and a kiss to bring them both to erotic satisfaction.

"Do you think we might try taking our clothes off?" Crowley inquired.

"Oh, capital idea."

Crowley was lean and very pale all over, and his long legs seemed somehow even longer sans trousers. Aziraphale felt rather larger, somehow, undressed, as if he were not a human-shaped person, but a sentient cloud. Crowley seemed no less enthusiastic about increasing their Knowledge of one another, however. And the multiple sensations engendered by skin touching skin were delicious in ways Aziraphale could only compare to gustatory delights.

Coupling naked became their habit, but the more often they did it, the less transcendent their climaxes seemed to be. Aziraphale began to wonder if it might be worth it to discorporate, for the sake of the total mutual immersion of which pure spirits were capable.

Crowley, still hovering a few inches above the mattress, suddenly snapped his fingers. "You know what we've forgotten?"

"What?"

Crowley speared Aziraphale with an emphatic finger. "Genitals!"

For a moment Aziraphale could not think what Crowley was talking about. Then he remembered, and blushed. They might look like male human beings, and even be accustomed to wearing these bodies and operating through them, but they were neither human nor male, either of them, and in fact, their bodies were missing a good deal of the usual human plumbing. Aziraphale had never once suffered a stomach ache, and he was certain that not every oyster he'd ever consumed was perfectly fresh.

"Oh, right. D'you want to try that, then?"

Crowley grinned. "I think it might be worth the effort."

In a flash, his lean naked human form acquired suitable male genitalia--shapely, well-proportioned, and already well along to a state of arousal. 

"Your turn, angel." His aroused phallus pointed emphatically toward Aziraphale.

It took the angel a bit longer to... feel his way into the process. His body wasn't *really* human, but still, its habits were hard to break; he'd been knocking around for millennia without, er, those bits, and had never felt the need of them. But it did seem to be worth making the effort.

"Oh, nice." 

Aziraphale looked down. A quite respectable set of--what had Shadwell called them? "gear and tackle" had appeared at the base of his belly. They were possibly a bit larger than Crowley's, and framed by downy pale hairs a bit darker than what was on his head.

They were also already rather engorged, a sensation which hovered curiously on the border between pleasurable and painful, like an itch which has been scratched almost too thoroughly. (Even an angel may not be immune to a mosquito.) When Crowley, intrigued, stretched out a careful hand and touched them--well, that consummation was even quicker than their first.

"We've got to learn to think more like humans, I suppose," Crowley said later. He tapped Aziraphale on the tummy, alarmingly close to the genital area. "You own a bookstore. You must have volumes of, what, anatomy? erotica? pornography?"

Aziraphale had the volumes, indeed. Crowley seemed all too willing to do the research. Curious, from a demon who had once said he did not read books. 

"The best ones are in Latin," he reported back, and went on to demonstrate the meaning of some Latin words, beginning with "fellatio". 

Aziraphale found having his eyes roll back in his head to be a sensation almost as alarming but delightful as a physical orgasm with ejaculation.

It took them some time to explore the possibilities of male/male sexual congress, especially once Aziraphale did some research of his own and expanded their database beyond Latin Authors of Whom Augustus Disapproved. (The Arabic cultures were tremendously helpful in that regard.) Mouths, hands, and even anuses could provide immense pleasure and lead to consummation--who would have guessed? But round about the time Aziraphale was becoming comfortable with the notion of Being A Bottom, Crowley was getting, not restless, exactly, but curious. The dear boy had always been curious.

"We're not actually men, you know," he mused, one night after a delicious little supper at a men-only club.

"Well, we're--" *angels*, he almost said. It was difficult to remember, these days, that Crowley was a demon; that they had once been on Opposite Sides. 

"We're spirits, yes."

"And not just that. We're not human, and we're not male. We only look male."

Aziraphale rummaged round in his memory. "You spent a few centuries as a woman, I recall. Up until the crucifixion, if I remember correctly. And then when we were, ah, looking after Warlock."

"Well, sort of." Crowley rolled onto his stomach, resting his chin on folded arms. "I looked enough like a woman to them. Mortals, I mean. And the tits were rather nice, if I do say so myself. But I didn't bother about the genitalia then, either." He threw Aziraphale a sidelong glance. "I could do, though."

"Do what?"

Sighing, Crowley flopped onto his back. "I could actually be female. Breasts, vulva, and all. And then we could Get to Know each other. If that interested you." He pursed his lips and gazed at the angel from under lowered lashes.

Aziraphale thought about this. He thought about all the images of naked women he had seen; he had rather avoided actual naked women. Then again, he had rather avoided naked men, too. Nor had the images of human nudity either aroused or disgusted him, in the past; they were simply works of art, to be admired or not on the basis of technique and so forth.

He had done rather more than admire a masculine Crowley. The only way to be sure about a feminine version....

"Give it a go, if you like."

Crowley, of course, changed form right away. Small shapely breasts with neat, startlingly red nipples. A bit more padding here and there, mostly about the hips and belly. And to his surprise, red hair adorning the pubic mound, not quite hiding the cleft in the flesh there.

"Oh."

"What d'you think?" Crowley's voice was higher now, yet had the same timbre as ever, a caress on ethereal angelic nerves.

"You look quite--nice." Aziraphale knew he was blushing. 

"It's not all about looks, angel." And Crowley rolled closer and raised his--her mouth for a kiss. 

Kissing a female Crowley was pretty much the same as kissing a male Crowley, that is, very enjoyable, and Aziraphale found that his still masculine genitalia wanted Knowledge of Crowley's now female genitalia quite a lot. Getting to Know feminine Crowley involved a good deal of caressing, kissing, stroking, tasting (oh!), tongue, fingers, penis, vagina, movement, friction--!

Crowley screamed. It was flattering. Afterward Aziraphale wondered if the seraphic rumors about God were true, that they were actually multisexual and had created the universe not by speaking, but by group sex.

Aziraphale eventually conceded that he liked to top, if Crowley cared to be female. "Why don't we switch then?" said Crowley.

"You mean, you top me? How would that work?"

"No, angel, although there's ways to do that." He grinned, making Aziraphale shiver. "I meant I could switch back and you could be a woman for a while."

Shifting to a female body proved surprisingly easy, genitals and all. How curious! Having a penis and testicles had felt quite unlike the comfortable nothing Aziraphale had lived with for millennia, but so did having a vulva. All those curious folds, the hidden erectile organ, the new orifice, all proved unexpectedly sensitive. Exquisitely sensitive, in response to Crowley's tongue (which was still forked, at least when he wanted it to be).

"Look at you," Crowley said admiringly. "Wouldn't Rubens have loved you. Ready for copulation, love?"

Making love with two penises had been a shocking joy. Putting his penis into a beloved's vagina had been exponentially better. Welcoming a beloved phallus into her body was--

"I whited out," Aziraphale admitted.

"You *sang*," Crowley said. He looked awestruck. "Think we might have created a couple of universes there."

"Oh dear no," said Aziraphale, but secretly, he rather hoped so.

And of course they tried being both female, which was quite nice, and then went back to being both male for a while, and pretty soon they were changing sex nearly every time they coupled, which was at least once a day, if not more than. One of them being male and the other female seemed more exciting to Aziraphale, at first, but both of them being male had a lovely continuity with their long history together, Before, and both of them being female was soft and comfortable, until Crowley discovered fisting. 

Then Crowley surprised Aziraphale by showing up to bed wearing slinky lingerie (black, of course), with the perky breasts and their very red nipples (of which Aziraphale was very fond) and under the slinky gown, male genitalia.

"Oh my stars and garters!"

In the end, Aziraphale thought, it did not really matter what sex or gender they were pretending to be when they Knew one another. It was all Knowledge, and Love, and secretly he suspected the seraphim were right about the Godhead and that it was ineffable sex, not ineffable speech, which had created the cosmos. Perhaps their own humble ineffable Love and Knowledge were creating things anew, because it seemed to Aziraphale, on the frequent occasions when they dined out, that more and more humans were learning to Know and Love one another regardless of gender, too.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also [rembrandtswife](http://rembrandtswife.tumblr.com) on Tumblr and I like things that have wings.


End file.
